


Just an Average Day

by EmeraldEyes (Vaughtnaught)



Series: Fall from Grace [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Original Character-centric, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-21 07:51:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6043891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaughtnaught/pseuds/EmeraldEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles, vignettes, slice of lifes, and RP-come writings involving my O/C Whiplash and her exploits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Average Day for the Courier...

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series after a lengthy, several year hiatus from writing. I've recently joined up with a really nice RP group on DA (Decepticon Nation, give them a look). While not all of the chapters or stories will revolve around the group, there are several aspects and references to what happens in the group. OCs are mine (dur). Have mercy XD

Traveling through a battle zone to deliver medical supplies wasn't really her idea of a 'fun night out'. Then again, most thing Whiplash didn't were neither bright, safe...or ended in things NOT exploding. She was waiting anxiously at the docking platform as a Medic approached her.

"Courier Whiplash?" He questioned. His altmode marked him as a medical transport of some sort, red lighs on his shoulders and the red Crosses clashing against his Autobot shield on his chest. A dark green visor concealed his face as he approached, a package held in his hands, pristine as ever, while the rest of him was coated in dirt and grime.

She hopped from pede to pede, vibrating with kinetic energy absorbed through the day, ready to go. "You got it. Let me guess, Socket?" She questioned, saluting snappily. The overhead lights glared across her dark paint job, and she nervously patted at her riot batons. "This needs to get to where precisely?"

He paused, clearing his vocoder. "Kaon."

Dead silence followed for a moment, before she cleared her own vocoder, glossa running over her lips before sighing. "Let me guess--" she paused to sign off on the package with a stylus while she spoke, "--Special Ops medic needs extra supplies. Wonder who blew their fingers off this time?"

Socket paused to laugh, "Probably Chokehold. He has a tendency to do that. Any who. Get it there. Get it there fast. They need these supplies."

There was a moment where the Femme seemed to stare at him. There was a click, and her body started to blur. "Pft. I'm already gone."

In reality, she was already five or six kliks away, sonic dampeners activating as her pedes sped over metal, ground, and over ponds of liquid. Wind blew past her face as she slid her visor down to protect her optics with a free hand. Activating her comm, she continued to run, a cocky grin on her features.

_-This is Courier Whiplash. I'm hearing you big bad Black Ops need some band aids?-_

There was lazer fire in the distance. A battle was currently going on, meaning she'd need to step on it. Static blared in her comm link before the gruff voice of a mech reached her ears.

_-This is Chokehold, femme you'd best have those medical supplies!-_

She skipped around a collapsed building, leaving dust trails in her wake. _-You know it mech! Im--_

Whiplash was forced to cut the message short, lazer fire erupting around her. She'd slowed down in her efforts to not kick up dust, now having Decepticons firing down at her from the skies. "Slaaaaaaag!" Activating her commlink again, she continued to serpentine.

_-I need some fragging cover fire here! I'm gonna be full of holes by the time I get to you! Who you got out there?!-_

Her comm burst into noise again, and she was reduce to a whoop as she recognized the smooth vocoder in her audio. _-Come on now babe. You know ol' Rig wouldn't let his favorite courier down!-_

There was a distinct whining from in front of her, and she pitched herself forward, package under one arm while she vaulted up on her palm of the extended arm off the ground, pushing herself up, and -over- a burly mech brandishing a railgun.

Explosions rocked the area, and the battlefeild went silent for the time being. Whiplash was lying in a crouched position, panting and covered in coolant, oil and dust. She was in some kind of warehouse, rubble covering where she'd entered in. A mech approached her, dented, scarred and a patch covering where his right optic had once been. "Courier Whiplash I presume?"

She righted herself to salute, vibrating with the excess energy she built up, and disengaged her dampeners. As they whirred to a stop, she saluted, panting quietly. "Courier...Whiplash...reporting a package...General Hightower...sir!"

He saluted her back, and nodded. "At ease. You ARE aware of what you just did right?" When she nodded, he smirked, scarred lip components quirking up in a grin. "Nice job." As he took the package, he looked over his shoulder.

"BlastRig. See to the courier. And...try not to break her."

The mech in question was wiping off his railgun, grinning like a maniac. "What I tell ya femme. This new prototype was the best I---WOOFPH--"

He was cut short as the minibot tackled him, pinning him to the floor. "Duh. Why else do you think I took this job?" She patted his cheek.

"Now then...hows about we go about trying to fix the glitch. It had a .15 second delay and that made me worry---"  
\----


	2. Lift Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How'd a courier get stuck working on a Decepticon base? Worst double agent ever...

"Hey Whiplash...Hightower is looking for you in his office."

"Ugh seriously? What now?"

"Dunno but by the looks of it...you better get your aft in gear. I saw one of the ARKs communications officers in there...what'd you frag up?"

The short Autobot wandered down the hallways of her current base. She was on earth, it was flat, it was hot, and it was annoying. Endless litany of _'Stay in the base, Whiplash.'_ or _'Stay out of sight until you get an alt-mode, Whiplash'_ or _'Stay out from underfoot!'_ were something she'd hear nearly every fragging day.

Upon reaching the office, she'd buzz to be let in, and found her commanding officer conferring with Blaster, of all bots. Very rarely did she interact with any one in head command. The red autobot looked up, and his face was grim. He'd turn and pass her by without a word, and it only added to the couriers mounting anxiety.

"Sir?"

Her head officer towered over her, both in size and intensity. His alt mode was some form of armored SUV scanned from the local human military. He motioned for her to sit, and he straightend out the data pads on his desk. "Whiplash...your designation came up in a pool selected for an off world mission. Back planet side." He explained gently.  
Confusion flared in the back of her head. Cybertron? She hadn't been home in...ages. "Sir...General Hightower. There aren't any courier positions open up there. And I'm not a scouts so what--"  
"Your communications experience is going to be put to use."

She opened her mouth to protest, and he held up a hand to silence her. "We're moving in agents planet side to Kaon. We need eyes and ears inside the Decepticon Capital, as well as their surrounding bases. With your skills, we can assemble whatever back round information is needed. Though...some cosmetic changes will have to be made."

Her hand drifted to the Autobot shield at the base of her throat. "But sir...there's gotta be somebody more experienced! I mean...I'm not as good as some. We've got higher ranking officers for sure--"

"Thats enough. You spent five solar cycles hiding out in your ship before you even came to this base. The Decepticons probably aren't even aware you landed anywhere near this planet. Your size, speed and skills make you a valuable tool..." He faltered, realizing the words he'd said. "Not a tool. A valuable officer. Its important this mission is done as efficiently as possible. You're going to be working as a communications clerk on base."

It felt as if she'd taken a direct shot to the chest from a cannon. Leave the base? Any friendly base? And go back to Cyberton? Then what? Assume this falsified identity and pray that it was airtight...she was running out of body parts to lose.  
"I...understand, General Hightower."

\----  
Her trip to medbay for rebranding was...not what she expected. The medic was a quiet femme named Rickett.  
"Raise your chin? I need to get under the plating for your pain receptors."

There was a click, and she couldn't feel her lower jaw. There was a flare of sparks, Ricketts visor down to cover her optics from any flying sparks.  
_Work with the Cons? Blastrig would sooner spit oil..._ She idly thought to herself. The one or two she'd come across weren't horribad. There was a dull ache in her processor at the notion of facing one down again, and the gut drop of possible combat. She couldn't lose her other optic.

The sparks stopped spitting, and the metal at the nape of her neck was warm. Rickett carefully clicked the pain receptors back on, and there was an ache that hadn't been there previously. She caught sight of herself in the reflection of the medics armor. The purple, spiked shield on her armor stood out like an ugly blemish. A stain on her pale blue armor.

**-Whiplash. You have one solar cycle to get your things together. You have debriefing in the morning-.**

_So much for acclimation..._  
\----  
The sun dawned over the desert, and dew still clung to whatever organic plant life existed. A chilly breeze swept the air as she waited outside for her transport shuttle, and Hightower was passing off datapads.  
"You're a resident of Kaon. Your position stays the same. You're a communications officer. Top of your class. Everything you need to study up on is in the datapad. Take notes, transmit when you can, and if you have any package drops...scan the contents." He grumbled.  
He paused, and Whiplash held the datapad close to her chest, staring up at him. For a moment, his features softened. "Look...your brothers...I'll keep them updated on your situation. They're still stationed off planet on one of our satellite moonbases. If things start to go south, we'll be doing our best to get you out of there. But you need to adapt. You're smarter then you let on."

There was a woosh of air as the shuttle began powering up, and the boarding ramp slid down to land. He straightened, and gave the courier a sharp salute.  
Whiplash turned to look at the shuttle, before returning the salute. "I'll keep you updated Sir."  
Turning on her heel, she marched up the ramp. Collapsing down into a seat, she pulled her datapad out, and began going over the finer details. It all needed to be memorized. Her hands shook the entire trip. 

_Don't frag this up Whiplash. You frag up...and you're two feet in the smelter._


	3. First Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whiplash meets one of the compatriots at the base...and it does not go well. She's in over her head...by more then she expected.
> 
> All OC's mentioned in the chapter are property of their owners in DN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an RP-turned chapter done in Decepticon Nations skype channels! :D

Her first contact with the Decepticon base was not what she expected. Here she was...and it was fairly barren. There was activity, but it was to a bare minimum. Lights were on in various ports, and as she entered and went through processing, Whiplash finally began feeling the dread that this was her new home for the time being.

After being shown her quarters, she was left to her own devices on the base. There was a few assignments she needed to complete as part of being in Comms, but she could do it on her mobile datapad. She'd manage to navigate her way to the Rec room, and find a stool that didn't completely tower over her. Luckily this base had several bots that weren't quite average sized, and the furnishings bellied that. Powering up her work, she began scrawling over what needed to be taken and sent out. For nearly an hour, it was just her and the dull -blips- of her sending work out until the datapads screen began to flicker. There was a slight tugging sensation at the finer mechanisms behind her eye patch, and she stiffened.

A mech had entered the room, clearly a flier judging by the wings folded close to his black and white body. Whiplash was to preoccupied with trying to fix her datapad, untill she realized his shadow was towering over her. The emergency HUD installed in her bad optic flared up, and while her fly or fight mechanism didn't take over, her fuel pump dropped into her gut. Slowly, she managed a small salute. Her hand drifted down to deactivate her datapad, lest the screen fizzle itself out into a dead battery.  
The mech didn't speak right away, his scarred, battered visage watching her intently before returning the gesture. Something, some form of liquid had smeared and dried on his face, only adding to his gruff exterior. For a moment, he continued to stare, before his voice grumbled lowly, "You're a new recruit I'm guessing?"

For a moment, Whiplash forgot how to speak. 

_-Thats a Decepticon. Its going to shoot--nothing if I don't frag this up. Deep breath.-_

"Yessir." She replied quickly. She wasn't sure of his ranking, so she figured being as uptight as possible was the best way to avoid getting shot at. "Just going over some shipments I need to take care of and into the city." Her hand patted her datapad. "And mostly getting acclimated. This base is larger then the one in my home city." Sliding down from the stool, she stood at attention. Heat prickled down her spinal strut, and a breif exclamation point flared in the corner of her vision, her internal temperature spiking. "Communications Officer Whiplash. From Kaon."

His expression didn't change, tapping a finger on the table. "Communications huh? You're under the glowstick then." He mused. "I'm Circutbreaker. Cyberninja....didn't know comm bots handled shipments." He lent against the table casually, the guns on his arms began turning in boredom.

_-Fraaaag.-_

Remaining stiff and at attention, the gears in Whiplash's brain began turning a mile a minute. "I act as a courier when not decoding, sir." She blurted. She felt her optic ridge rase of its own accord. _-Glowstick?-_ She hadn't heard of that particular con in any of her briefing reports. "Glowstick? I'm...not familiar with the designation." Her hands folded behind her back and twisted her fingers. "Then again, I'm unfamiliar with your class as well. I've yet to meet many others on the base."  
Circutbreaker huffed air from his intakes, his massive shoulders rising and falling. "Her designation is Hiddenstorm. She's the communications Brigadier. And I doubt you'll see another ninja. Despite the roster I've only seen two since I've been here. Not counting the Commanders of course." His wings flicked back. Irritation?

It was only then did Whiplash noticed exactly -what- that substance on his face was. Dried, flaked off energon coated his face and lower jaw. It wasn't a battle smear, it was either self inflicted and the wounds had been sealed, or he'd...been feeding?  
"Who have you met so far?"

His voice cut through her inner monologue like a knife, and she cleared her vocoder. Her hands dug into the paint on her palms behind her back. "I've yet to be introduced to any of our superiors." She replied evenly, though under her armor, her protoform was trembling. "I was shown my quaters and left to my work, and then what you came across here." Resuming her perch on her stool, she crossed her legs and set her datapad in her lap. "I've only arrived late last solar cycle. Tapping her stylus on the tabletop, it helped alleviate her anxiety. "It's in my best interest to not get caught underfoot...literally."

The flier let out another huff of air, particles being disturbed. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was getting irritated. "Most of us here pay enough attention to where we step. Though there's an odd habit of tripping into each other. They only really look out for are Avaade, the Frontliner Brig and me. When I'm not in control. He sat down and tapped his fingers over the metal surface.

_-When he's not in contr---who?-_

The mention Avvade, it felt as if she'd been dropped in to the smelter. There was no way it was a different Con. Small? Decepticon? And with a name like that...it was hard to find another with the same designation. There was a moment where she could almost feel his grubby fingers sinking into her optic socket, twisting and yanking as he pinned her. There was a warning trill, and she pulled herself back to attention. Taking a huff in her intakes to cool her systems down, she smiled. "I'll file that knowledge for later use. I've yet to meet them." Her legs swung in the open air and resumed chewing on her stylus. Narrowing her optic in on the dried energon, she gestured to her own. "Sir you uh...you have something there....on your face."

It was clear her anxiety was showing, and Circutbreakers face shifted into something of alertness and uneasiness. "Ah....uh. Right..." He attempted several times to wipe his face on his arm, only to scrape himself up more. The dried lifeblood wasn't budging without a cleaning solvent.

In an attempt to alleviate the situation, she grinned, and laughed. "Rough night? If I can assume?" She was thankful that her mild panic attack wasn't taken critically, and she powered her datapad back up, hoping to get back to her work. When static flooded the screen, she frowned. "Do shipments come through here often? Energon shipments and what have you. I've got very little radio chatter as of the moment."

The flier gave a half hearted shrug. "I don't know. The commanders have been gone for a while. There's no guardians to handle it. Who knows if we're even getting more supplies. There's a town nearby though, and traffic to there."  
Whiplash frowned and banged her fist on the screen. "Go figure...magnetic field..." She pulled herself back slightly, ignoring the most prevalent part of the conversation yet. "You exude your own field? Interesting...I've only come across a few that can do that, and they never last very long." At the lack of leadership, a small trill of joy sparked in the back of her head. This mission would be over soon enough. The cons would murder each other and she could go home! "So we're flying blind then? No one in command at all?"

At the mention of his abilities, Circutbreaker smiled grimly. "I do more then exude it. I can control it." He explained. 

_-So he's like Windcharger...good to know for later.-_

He continued speaking, and it drew her back in. "Nightbird is still here. She doesn't talk. Some 'replacements' have shown up but none of the recruits actually listen to them. Avvade is technically the base leader, by vote. Aside from that, the brigs keep their classes in line for the most part."

_-Oh yes. Please continue to tell me how you have zero authority to run this base. Let this mission be over soon.-_

"Appropriate enough." She agreed. "I'll need to see whats expected of me sooner rather then later." There was a moment when Whiplash focused on the scrolling green text of her patch vision, acessing a public file and saving it for later. "Replacement leadership? Interesting. Though...if nooone is listening to them, why not have Avvade take over and knock some sense into them?"

The flier bristled, and smacked his hand on the table. "'Cause bots don't listen to Avvade neither." He smirked, and gave a low chuckle. He thought it was funny? "And he's not going to fight all of them. If you're looking for guidance, either go find the Glowstick or the new Comm. Commander." He stood up and stormed over to the energon dispenser. Her datapad quickly powered up normally, the static dispersing.

Her hand waved, and she shook her head. "No no, thats not what I needed. I got the position through working well independently." She'd blurt. As her datapad sprung to life, she breifly glanced down at the screen. As his back was turned, she made a few notes on a fresh slate, and flicked back to her previous work. "-New- Comm. Commander? There is a secondary?"

Circutbreaker appeared to think it over for a minute. "It was some of Soundwaves toys. Rumble and Frenzy left with him. Birds I think. Lazerbeak and the other one. They're in charge now." He retrieved his cube and returned to the table.

_-Greaaaaat. Tall, crazy and psychic.-._

"Fantastic. Though I've only heard of them through reputation. Never met them face to face." Another scroll of information and she nodded. "Buzzsaw if memory serves right." At the notion of the infamous communication officer tucked away in her head, she straightened up. "It would be good to see how a master works at their position. Though I'm aware Soundwave is a mech of few words. He and his cassettes do good work."

"I'm sure they've been watching everything. Can't be sure about the other commanders though." As Circutbreaker got comfortable, the datapad phased out, and whip powered it down again. Lowgrade energon sloshed in the cube, and he'd sip at the contents. "I would imagine." Whiplash mused. "Soundwave is the eyes and ears of everything Decepticon related yes?" Tucking the datapad back into subspace and folded her thin fingers together. "So you've served with the Decepticons a long time then...are you from the capital too?"

Circutbreaker grew solemn. "Kalis." He grumbled lowly. "A different one from this world. I'm not sure how the best to explain it. I've served for a while on this base, but had a few run ins with them before being sent here." He tipped the cube up, biting on the corner and resumed drinking. 

_-Them? Who? Is this mech cracked?-_

As her head bobbed dumbly, though the situation and conversation didn't quite sink in. "This base is downright dead compared to Kaon. Though again, I'm used to staying out of underfoot. When you're dealing with bots three times your size, you learn to duck because they're not going to bother looking. Some of the seekers aren't too bad though."

It was after that comment that Whiplash realized how truly borked she was.

Circutbreaker set the empty cube aside, and reclined. "We've got a few giants on base, but most of them wandered off after the guardians dissipated. ..or the plants got them."

_-...what the fuck?-_

"Plants?" Her attention piqued. "As in organic matter? Not Cosmic Rust related?" Her head tilted to the side, leaning forward to listen better. "Are casualties a normal thing on base or is this sort of an isolated thing?" Her crossed leg bounced, agitation growing in leaps. This could work in her favor.

He waved a hand, snorting defiantly. "I wouldn't call them Organic. They're gigantic metal...things. Mostly tentacles. They grow from spores and try to eat metal. They've infested the lower levels. As for casualties, its hard to say. Lots of people have shown up and dissapeared in a day. At beat, the roster notes them as MIA....if its even updated at all."

_-Oh for Primus sake...this entire base is bonkers!!-_

There was a breif ping that riccochet in the back of Whiplash's main computer, and she'd file things later for her own benefit. "Thats...really unfortunate." She feigned sympathy. "And the higher ups don't seem to care...as is the life I guess." She grinned, and tapped her stylus. "Serve to the great Decepticon cause and all. And the medstaff hasn't tried to do anything?"

Circutbreaker shrugged again, tapping the empty cube on the table. "Bleak did his best to keep us up and running, and put Avvade in his place. In the end, the front liners out numbered the medics and help up much better in a fight. Bleak was the only one who I ever heard a death announcement for...Nighthawk took his position but now even that grump has vanished. Maybe Gnarl too. Maybe he's still around somewhere." His speech sped up, and became more clipped as he mentioned the dead medic.

"Not too fond of the mech huh?" She was hoping her own idle side chatter might help her nervousness. "I've only been in a few tight calls myself. Nothing too fantastic, but what are you going to do right?" Her fingers drummed on the table, scratches on the surface. "The base is rather large. They might be seeking private care?"

And then everything hit the slagger. 

Circutbreaker shook his head like a dog trying to dislodge water from its ears. "The bridge shakes the walls every time it comes on. You can feel it in the air when it pierces the sky." He muttered to her.

The only thing the courier was able to do was stare. "When -what- does?" She blurted. "What are you going on about?" She was not ready to go and encounter a Con with a mental breakdown on the fritz. Her HUD began routing possible ways out of the Rec room without causing much damage, and she tapped the riot batons on her thighs. "What shakes the walls?"

"The bridge..." Circutbreaker grunted out. "The space bridge that this whole base is built around. Its how we got here...most of us. Not you apparently." He looked at her, towering over her as his dim optics seem to be getting brighter by the second.

_-Has he figured it out? Oh slag...-_

"Ah...no. No I haven't left the planet. Not really." Whiplash managed to blurt. "I've always wanted to try but I'm usually confined to my terminal when Im not running errands." She gave a nervous laugh and waved her stylus. "As is the life of a comms officer though. Courier stuff keeps me indoors unless its for a sign off on some kind of weapons package."

For the umpteenth time, he laughed. It was becoming more disconcerting, and plainly freaking the shit out of the petite Autobot. "You should try and get out more. Not hard to find a cheap shuttle in town. But of course there are....other options." His tone went harsh, and Whiplash was horrified to find the cracks that were beginning to emerge in his face.

Whiplash raised her hand up, a crude shield between the two of them and gestured to her lightweight armor. "Sorry sir, I'm ot realy built for any kind of intense travel. Courier and Comms are pretty much all I'm good at." A bold faced lie, but as long as her story stuck, all would be well. "Though, what would the other options be?"

"Well...upgrades of course. We've had several bots get t-cogs installed or repaired. The engineers have a stockpile of weapons to try out!" There was a low hum starting to emit from his back, growing louder as his smile continued to grow. Energon seeped from the split plating and it was roughly that time Whiplash realized -how- he'd gotten the dried energon on his face.  
"I ah...I have an alt mode. From a previous mission. I did a stint on earth and scanned a faulty mode." Another lie, but again, she had no use for her alt mode on base. "I've got a fully functioning T-Cog and parts...." As he continued to power up, warning bells went off. Sliding down from her seat, she began backing away towards the exit. "I should be getting back to work...you look like you need some time."

Circutbreakers smile never faltered, energon dripping from his chin to plip on the floor in neat little circles. "Please. Stay a while. Amuse me." The flier grinned, and there was a THUNK. A sharp tugging in Whiplash's knees realized that the floor was slowly falling prey to the fliers ability.

She powered up her sonic dampeners, one of the few things she refused to give up, and began backing away with a bit of effort. She wasn't going to be able to reach any damaging speed indoors, but she could get a running start before the slag hit the fan. "I really need to be going." She continued to back away, her hand straying towards the riot batons on her legs.  
Another pulse, and she found herself repelled into the air, and she hit the wall with a thunk. A grunt of pain escaped her, and Circutbreaker began stalking in her direction. She needed to get traction, and she needed to get it NOW.

"Whats the rush now?" He laughed. "You had plenty of time to talk to HIM."

As the traction faded, she began to pull herself back, praying the field didn't extend to the entirety of the room. "Him?" She blurted. Was this mech off his rocker? Her foot landed on the corner of the arch way, and it was all the effort she needed. As she kicked the door, the field ended and she landed on the floor with a thud. There was a whine, and she bolted.  
Somewhere behind her there was a roar, and a boom of engines as Circutbreaker proceeded to thrash the room. Whiplash didn't dare look behind her, blowing down hallways until she discovered her quarters. Her fingers flew to the keypad, punching in the lock and bolted in, locking it behind her.

Safe. For now.  
She pulled herself onto her berth and curled into a tight fetal ball. Her gears grinded in fear. How was she the Autobot selected for this mission? How in the heck was she supposed to survive this for HOW long?  
For the first time since landing on Earth...she felt fear.


	4. When you come full circle...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whiplash runs into the mech that once upon a time, stole her optic as a prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another RP-come-Chapter from Decepticon Nation!

It wasn't until a cycle later that Whiplash emerged from her quarters and skittered off to her work station. The femme was perpetually looking over her shoulder, watching for those around her. This base was either full of crazies, or the best run base that she'd ever come across to the point of being insane.  
She emerged on her break, heading down the main hallway with her usual datapad, scrolling code drifting across the screen and she'd tap out and retype any inconsistencies. The sounds of feet thudding down the hall caught her attention. They were smaller and lighter then her own, indicating they were smaller then her.

_Avvade._

Her spark dropped into her gut, and panic began building in her. Her history with the tiny warmonger was short, and violent. Just like him. She stood to the side of the wall, burying her nose in her work and hoping to be ignored.

The footsteps stopped, and she peered over the top, she realized he'd stopped in his skipping, and was staring at her. His red optics immediately zeroed in on the blue glass of her remaining optic. 

_He's staring right at me. How does he not remember. He can't not...does he?_

She'd give him her full attention, and cleared her vocoder. "Hi there." She'd greet cautiously. Was he still prone to outbursts? Powering down her datapad, her hand went to her hip. "Am I uh...in the way?"

"Not really." Came his short reply. He tilted his head, obviously trying to look at her datapad. His stealth wasn't -that- good. "Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you. What class are you?"

Her hands went stiff, and she clutched the datapad to her chest. This was the commander and he acted like this? She briefly gave a salute. "Whiplash. Communications specialist from Kaon. I've only arrived in the last cycle or so. Been getting myself acclimated to the base...its larger then I'm accustomed to."

"Ooooh. Sorry! I'm Avvade." He'd greet. He held out his left hand for her to shake. "I'm a Front Liner."

_He's going to rip my arm off. I know he is. Suck it up._

With a gasp of feigned suprise, she saluted again. "I've been informed you're running most of the show out here. A pleasure sir." She straightened and reciprocated the handshake. Her patch HUD was broadcasting warnings. Too many possible outcomes. Not many of them good for her. "Its good the know the odds of me getting stepped on are rather small around here."

"Heh..." Avvade laughed, rubbing at the back of his helm. His optics briefly refreshed, flaring up a bright red.

_...Is he embarrassed? Oh frag did I make a joke about his size? Shit I did._

"Uh...yeah. I guess so. Not to used to Cons calling me 'sir'. But there are still a lot of larger frames around here. Some pretty big ones actually." As he retracted his hand, his hand went back to rest on his weapon. "So uh...how come the blue optic, if I can ask? Medics only had enemy spares...?"

_...Are we honestly having a civil conversation? Primus help me._

"I've gotten pretty good ad dodging the bigger cons. It makes it easier for me to move then them." Her hand nervously went to her hip, tapping at the armor. At the mention of her optic, her hand reached up and gently prodded the area. "Oh yeah! Sometimes I forget its even like that. Well...they had spares but enemy bits are take what you can get right? Im lucky they had the parts to replace what I needed. Im gonna look into getting it re-done. Blue isn't my thing...stands out to much you know?"

He chuckled, nodding his head in agreement. "Yeahhh....there are a few 'Cons that have blues though. S'don't worry too much. One's a boat-alt and he hates me. He's pretty funny." 

"Reassuring, I wager. "Can't have someone plugging me full of plasma out of prejudice!" She grinned. Her nails continued to tap at the seam of her armor. She didn't want to be here. It made her too twitchy.  
His optics narrowed in on her nervous fidgeting. "D'you need to be going some where?"

_Frag. Again. How am I still alive?_

Waving a hand in his direction she laughed. "Nah. Nervous habit, Im always used to moving around. Standing still bottles up a ton of energy on me. I was just burning some of it off, not a problem." She focused on his words more then anything. A small red warning popped up in the corner of her vision. The extended stress was causing her temperature to rise again, and she shifted her weight. "I've just been looking forward to getting down to work. Its been a while since I've done something good to our cause."

At the notion, the front liner stood straighter, his stance a little wider. "Yeah, things have been slow here too though. The Commanders were holding us in limbo. You've heard how things have been and how they're gone now right? Now we're free to do whatever we want as long as we think its good for the 'Cons." His optics took on a glint that made Whiplash feel sick.  
"Wanna attack the closest Autobot outpost? Jus' grab a few friends and go?" He singsonged. 

_Oh no...Keep it cool._

With a blithe laugh, she waved a hand, her vocoder straining into static. "I'm not really made for combat. My job on Kaon was a courier. I'm made for speed, not fighting. If something gets up close and personal with me...you'll be scraping me off the floor!" Well...at least that wasn't a lie. There was a chime from her internal clocks, and she paused to check the time. "I should be getting back to work." She confessed. "But I'll see you around maybe?" She grinned.

He looked a bit downtrodden, but gave her a smile and a wave. "Alright...see you around."

She turned on her heel and hurried the way she came, eager to get back to her station. It hadn't occurred to her she might be called on to "play" with the Cons on some of their outings...


End file.
